Beautiful Stranger
by Fen Jien Ren
Summary: / ON HIATUS / While watching the sun set one day, what if a blue-haired maniac walks up to you, sexually harasses you, and tells you you're beautiful? Will you be ready? Ulquiorra Schiffer sure isn't!
1. First Shot

**Beautiful Stranger;**  
_A GrimmUlqui Yaoi Fan Fiction._

Ulquiorra Schiffer, a twenty four year-old teacher, loved walking home. He liked seeing the sun and the sky shift colors as he came closer and closer to his destination. For him, other than solitude, the sun setting and rising were the best gifts of life. No matter how tired he was from teaching hard-headed high school students (and delinquents in detention), he would ease up right away once he reached that one spot on his way home where he felt like he could gaze at the colorful sky forever as the sun slowly disappears in between the sky and sea.

It was simply breathtaking.

His green eyes never grew tired of admiring the scene that was happening before him—the skies were in a feud of soft colors as the ocean did nothing but to reflect and bring better accentuation to the bright sun. He always felt like he could stand there all day if such phenomenon would last that long. It was soothing, relaxing to the nerves... exactly what he needed every after work. Everyone said he was weird in being able to keep cool far longer than anyone else, but he always took it somehow as a compliment to him and to this hobby of his. He always believed that nature has its own magic, and he was happy to be a proof of that.

As he was peacefully watching his favored sight, he caught something that was out of place in the corner of his eyes—a flash of light. Was there someone taking the picture of the sunset again? He shook his head. Pictures can not do justice to nature's beauty, why can't people understand that? Every single day he would see that flash of light, meaning whoever was taking the picture had yet to conceive the perfect shot. But for almost a month of doing such, hadn't it possible to realize that it was simply impossible?

Flash, flash, flash, flash, flash, flash, flash... was it still not enough? Just how many failures could this man get over? This was pathetic, and very annoying to the extent that it was starting to get on his nerves. The flashes of light were disturbing the serene moment, and he hated that more than anything else. He turned to the side, to where the flashes were from, and saw a man leaning forward the metal rails with a camera hanging on his neck.

_Again?_

Ulquiorra had seen him more than times that he could count. It was almost every single day that the man was there, desperately trying to get that perfect shot. He guess he'd be more surprised if it were someone else by then, since the awkwardly blue-haired man didn't seem to be the one to give up until he got what he wanted, considering the length of time he had spent there.

Well, the mood was ruined now. So even when the sun was yet to drown in the reflecting see, the impassive man took his leave. Sliding his hands to his pockets and securing his things under his arm, he walked down the street and passed the nature-photographer.

"Beautiful," Ulquiorra heard the man say, and it was impossible to disagree.

**xxx**

Friday, Ulquiorra was out there again, watching the sunset, and so was the hopeless photographer. This time, though, he needed his inner reflection more than ever before. Since he had skipped watching the sun thrice in a row, he was starting to get easily irritated during his teaching. One time he had even snapped on a student who was late with a very reasonable excuse (the poor boy even helped his father in their clinic). Almost everything was getting on his nerves, and he needed to calm down. Right. Now.

Blocking the flashes of light and the man itself from existence in his mind, the pale teacher did not notice the man approaching him with a broad grin. If he did, he would've hit the man already to that _perfect_ spot, recognizing the type of smile adorning those lips. It was maniacal and can never be mistaken as something less... dangerous.

The teacher jerked, his body stiffening, as he felt something that could not be lifeless on his behind. Ulquiorra hurriedly twisted around and made sure to catch the offending whatever so he could cut it right from its roots. He tightened his grip, able to catch the hand of the man that had the nerve to touch him. And to his surprise, it was the blue-haired photographer who greeted him with a flash of light.

Ulquiorra squinted, blinded temporarily by the light, but kept a firm grip on the stranger's hand. When he opened his eyes again, he saw the blue-haired stranger looking at the mini-screen of which turned out to be his digital camera. That was something new. Perhaps it was newly bought? How naïve, the cold teacher thought, did the photographer seriously think that the reason he couldn't get a perfect shot was because of his camera? Tsk. Tsk.

...and speaking of shots, his picture was taken, right? Right.

"Delete it." He said firmly and tightened his grip on the stranger, seemingly forgetting what the hand he was holding just did to his... er, behind.

Blue eyes turned to him, the toothy grin returning to his features. "Why would I?"

"Because you invaded my rights, my privacy." He reasoned, his empty mask unwavering. "Delete it."

The photographer gauged him, looking from head to toe. He raised an eyebrow at this, feeling absolutely awkward. Those eyes were looking a little too amused to his liking, and he felt like the stranger was actually checking him up. If the type of greeting he received minutes ago was anything to go by, then that the man was, in fact, gay. Realizing this, his hold loosened like a reflex as if he held something that was scorching hot.

"I'll repeat myself for the last time... delete my picture."

"What if I say no?"

"I'll sue you."

"Oh really?" the blue-haired (gay) stranger leaned down, their faces only inches apart. "For what?"

"Obviously for stalking... and for sexual harassment."

"I wonder how you'd prove that. We're in a public place, you know?" the man shrugged, turning the digital camera on and taking another picture of the pale teacher one more with the flash. "Once I delete _these_ pictures, I'd be free."

"The point exactly."

"Didn't say I will, though." He straightened his back, letting his camera dangle by his chest, and slid his hands to his pockets. He flashed his large grin again, looking down at the green-eyed teacher as if provoking. "As for the sexual harassment... can't a man greet another man by touching them?"

"If you were too stupid to know, for your information, you touched my—"

"Your ass. I fucking touched your sexy ass. What's so wrong about that?"

Ulquiorra groaned, that just sounded so wrong. So very wrong. He really couldn't understand homosexuals or even bisexuals, but that didn't mean he has something against them. He was okay with them, but the fact that he was a gay magnet –the man before him being a proof –kept him at least a mile away from then. He didn't want to be raped, because that was all that was written in their faces every time he would meet one.

He raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, calming him a bit, and thank God he was given a moment alone before this person attacked. He might survive through this without bloodshed after all. "Normal people either touch a person's back or shoulder as a greeting."

"I did touch your back. Where the hell do you think your ass is?"

Okay, this homo was definitely smarter and more annoying than those he had met before. He sighed, putting his hands back to his pockets and stared back at those calculative blue eyes.

"What? Do you have problems recognizing your front to your back?" The photographer stepped forward, cupping and squeezing Ulquiorra's crotch. He yelped, stiffening for the second time that day due to being touched. He didn't like making physical contacts in general, but he could let them pass from time to time, but this was certainly out of the norm! "Oh, look. You do have a dick. Or you don't know what a dick is?"

Ulquiorra's naturally pale skin flushed red, anger written all over his face. He clenched his fist and gave the stranger the strongest punch he could, but it was caught before it managed to hit. The man showed him that familiar smirk again, sending him into panic, but before he could recover and think of something to do, the stranger dove down to his lips.

_Shit._ He hurriedly turned away, finding the action perfectly familiar as it was done to him millions of times but failed. The teacher withdrew his hand and sent his other to try for another hit, but it was stopped the same way the first one was. Then suddenly, they heard a beeping sound.

"Oh, crap." The stranger turned down to his waist, feeling something also vibrating inside his pocket. He released his grip on the other's knuckle, and pulled his phone to his ear, slowly turning away. "Jeagerjaquez speaking."

_Jeagerjaquez?_

"Ahh, past six. Yeah... Now? What the hell is that? Well, fuck him."

Ulquiorra, for some reason, listened to the stranger's conversation over the phone which was a lot more _colorful_ than any other conversation he had heard. Ever since the first cuss was spoken, not a sentence was spared without it. It appeared that the photographer was not only smart and annoying, but quite interesting and peculiar, too.

Soon, the phone call was ended.

"Well, I gotta go." The blue-haired stranger turned to him with a smirk, "Let's meet up on Saturday."

"...why would I want that?"

The photographer paused, seemingly surprised, and then laughed. "Are you forgetting your pics already? If you come on Saturday, I promise I'll delete the pictures I took of you today. Don't you think that's a lot less troublesome than filing a case against me?"

Ulquiorra thought for a moment, and then... "This Saturday?"

"Yeah, tomorrow. And," he slid his hand to his back pocket and pulled out a small card. "Name's Grimmjow. Grimmjow Jeagerjaquez. Call if you can't come, okay? I hate looking like an idiot."

"Understood." Ulquiorra took out his hand to receive the calling card when the blue-haired photographer, Grimmjow, slid it inside his shirt and leaned in, giving him a light kiss on the cheek before running off. The poor teacher could only stare in surprise. It was his first kiss and it was taken by a complete stranger. Well, at least it wasn't on his lips.

He walked back home, feeling more tired than he'd usually be. Now it was four days in a row that he had not gotten his chance to relax while watching the sun and all was due to the annoying, thick-headed, blue-haired photographer now named as Grimmjow Jeagerjaquez. The name certainly was ringing some bells, but Ulquiorra couldn't put a finger just where he heard. Once that he thought hard enough, it gave him the feeling that he didn't hear it, but rather saw it. Read it... somewhere. Perhaps it was one of the vandals in their neighborhood? Could be.

Once he had unlocked the door, Ulquiorra threw himself to his bed and simply dropped his things at the doorway. His brain was too tired to trouble about trivial things, and he could just clean up again someday. He sighed, burying himself on his mounts of black pillows over his deep green bed covers. For some reason, he could still feel those damp lips against his cheek, and when he would reach out to touch it, he felt like they were burning... turned out that he cheeks were flushed red every time he thought about it.

He hated it.

With a groan, he threw a pillow through the open door without caring if it hit something (which it did and broke his vase into tiny pieces) and turned to lie on his back. Ulquiorra stared up at his ivory ceiling, finding himself wondering once more to the kiss he received earlier that day. He blushed again, causing him to lose one more pillow to the wall outside his room.

**xxx**

Hours were agonizingly slow, but he pulled through to the next day. Ulquiorra was still staring up the ceiling, barely sleeping a wink last night, and gave a deep sigh. As much as he hated to go on his rest day, he didn't like the idea of his pictures being the object of fantasies of a certain perverted man, which worse case would be being the being fantasized by _every_ perverted man. So, he sat up and headed to take a long bath. He had a thing for hygiene, and besides that, bubble baths, although very feminine or childish, could soothe his nerves even just a little, helping him to go through the day without ending up killing someone or worse, his whole annoying class.

An hour later, he was ready to leave. As he was locking his front door, he suddenly realized that they had not talked about the time and the place they would meet up. He didn't thought of not coming so didn't thought about calling, and by the sound of the conversation the photographer had over his cell phone, the man seemed pretty busy.

Ulquiorra sighed. Why was this giving him the impression that he was even excited to see that perverted stranger? Taking his own phone out along with the man's calling card, he carefully dialed the number and lifted it to his ear. As strange as it might sound, Ulquiorra thought that maybe, just maybe, there was a likeable part in the photographer's attitude. He meant, everyone had one, and sometimes first impressions just get the best of our attention most of the time.

Once it started to... ring?

"**Ngghh... ahh… Ah! AH! H-harder! Harder! Aaa—"**

Ulquiorra hurriedly shut his phone off, his cheeks burning red beyond belief, and took back what he said about the man's attitude. He was so right about him!

**xxx**

A man clad in white knelt by a porcelain tub, playing with the pictures floating in the water with a finger. He sighed, staring at his shots. He was beginning to grow tired of them, not being able to get that perfect shot that every photographer dreams of, but he couldn't quite get himself to thrown them away.

Taking pictures was more like breathing to him. He never worried about getting the _right_ shots, because it one click, he'd get them right away. It was the first time that he'd been this frustrated, the very first time that he couldn't get the shot that he wanted. For the uncountable time that day, he sighed.

"Ooh, Grimmy-chan!" an annoyingly, playful, high-pitched voice echoed throughout the red lit room as the door swung open.

_Grimmy-chan_ groaned, standing to face the fox-faced intruder, "Don't call me 'Grimmy-chan', or better yet, don't fucking call me at all! I already told you I don't want you coming here!"

The man's smile grew wider, tilting his head to the side as if teasing. "But yer phone went ringin', Grimmy."

"Don't call me that." He said, growling and snatching his silver phone that was dangling by the strap on the older man's slim finger. He flipped his phone open and stared at the numbers that flashed in his screen without any name. "How long did it ring?"

"Well, it ended as sudden as it rang."

"Really?" Grimmjow stared at the numbers, soon pressing the same series on his keypad. "That's weird."

"Well, Grimm, Luppi-chan an' I hafta' confess to ya."

He raised a brow, "Confess what? And the name's fucking Grimmjow."

"Okay, fucking Grimmy," the silver-haired man sang as if innocent to what he had said. "We wanna see if Nnoi-kun's tune 'as still 'vailable fer download."

"Tune? What tune?" _Grimmy_ pressed the call button and raised his phone to his ear, patiently listening to the monotonous ringing to stop.

"Didja call Nnoi-kun even once last month?"

"Yeah, I did."

"Didja like his ring-back?"

"Like? Wasn't the one he had last month was a voice of a woman getting fu—" Suddenly it hit him, his eye twitching in anger. "FUCK! YOU SHITTY BASTARDS!"

"Hiyaa~" the silver-haired man ran for cover, putting his hands over his head and slouching a little as he left the room as quickly as he could as if in the middle of a war zone.

"ICHIMARU! COME BACK HERE! HEY! YOU MOTHERFU—"

"**Hello?"**

"Oh, hey." Grimmjow suddenly stopped, slamming the door instead. "This is Jeagerjaquez. Umm, sorry about the ring-back, a friend of mine was being an ass. So, who's this?"

**xxx**

Ulquiorra sighed, playing with the ear of his half-empty cup as he waited for the blue-haired photographer to arrive. It turned out that the man forgot about their engagement, and if he didn't call, the pictures of him would've been left alone to be forgotten for all eternity in the digital camera. Thinking about it, maybe it was better if didn't he get so worried and just stayed at home.

"I'm here." Came a puffing voice. The now bored teacher looked back, seeing the blue-haired photographer dressed up in plain, white clothes with a camera still hanging on neck. The spiky blue hair was still up, but was quite disheveled in a way that it didn't look appealing. Seeing the disgust that filled those round green eyes as he met them, Grimmjow smirked and said, "I bathe, you shit."

The photographer walked to the chair opposite the Ulquiorra and sat down, still with a heaving chest as he tried to catch for his breath. He had ran all the way to the meeting place and that was because Ichimaru and Luppi was still not satisfied with fucking up his cell phone and hid his motorcycle keys. The man he wanted to meet gave him exactly half an hour, and if he was late even a minute later, he'd leave.

Grimmjow was sprawled on his seat with his head tilted back, eyes watching the light peak through the large green and white umbrella that covered them from the sun. He breathed in deep, and sighed. He was so tired. He didn't know he could run that far in fifteen minutes!

"You know," he started, still panting. "It's funny that you had the guts to threaten me with leaving."

"I don't see any fault in what I said." Ulquiorra replied, bringing the cup of coffee to his lips as he closed his eyes to have the beverage soothe his whole body. He was finally starting to relax and feel better after these past, very stressful days. "The agreement was that I come, and I did. We simply did not meet."

"If that's the case, smartass, you should've just left." He groaned, lifting his head to watch the green-eyed man taking in his coffee.

"Hm." Ulquiorra laid his cup down and looked up to meet those blue eyes, "I'm also smart enough to make sure that you keep to your part of the deal."

"Hey, I'm not a liar."

"Didn't say you were." Grimmjow's eyebrow rose at this, "I just said I was making sure."

"Whatever." The photographer groaned, bending forward and resting his forehead over the table.

"That is very unsightly."

"Makes me sexier, though. That's what matters." Grimmjow shot up, seeing a waitress approaching their table. He flashed a grin that Ulquiorra knew so well, and before he could comment about it, Grimmjow's hand was already touching the woman's behind as he playfully whispered his order. Oh, the poor girl.

The pale teacher sighed, drawing circles on his temple to ease the migraine that he dubbed as Grimmjow, naming it after the source of his misery. He hadn't slept so well, so he was prone to losing his temper even with the tiniest things. "Must you do that?" he said once the woman was out of earshot.

"It's how I greet." The photographer flicked his tongue, still looking at the very well endowed (or breasted) waitress who was too shy and too scared to say anything. Turning back to the raven-haired, he kept that toothy grin to grace his lips. "Now you know I wasn't harassing you."

"Yes, you did. And you just gave me another witness to send you to prison."

"You're still thinking about that?"

"Of course," he replied, mixing his coffee with a small spoon. "It's my last resort when worse comes to worst."

"I'm already at my worst." Grimmjow grinned, hovering and reaching out to the other over the table, and stopped only when their noses were only an inch apart. A situation that was all too familiar to Ulquiorra as well.

"The more reason why I have to collect evidence." He said, inching back and glaring at the photographer. "You better think twice before letting your stupidity get the best of you once more."

The waitress whose behind Grimmjow groped earlier was back with a tray. As the woman laid his order to the table, the blue-haired, perverted photographer grinned again as bent forward to get a good view of the woman's bust. Noticing this, Ulquiorra couldn't help but shake his head. Well, somehow, his first impression of Grimmjow on him being gay was wrong (because he was just plainly perverted without any sexual preference), but other than that... he wasn't taking anything back. And if change itself would grovel at his feet to say anything, Ulquiorra would add that Grimmjow was, without a doubt, trash. End of story.

"Then again, I should've known that you could not comprehend even the simplest things."

The blue-eyed man chuckled, "I'm just having fun, you know."

"The definition of fun... varies from person to person, if you must know."

Grimmjow took his own cup to his lips, sipping the newly brewed coffee. "Fuck, this is good."

"If it isn't too impossible for you, could you speak even just a bit more reputable? It would surely do well in your reputation."

"Never cared about it."

"I can see that." Ulquiorra picked up his cup, having his last drink of his order. "Now, the pictures." Grimmjow spurted out his drink, having a few brown droplets shamefully stain the white tablecloth. Having the cup down to the table, Ulquiorra noticed the evident trace of the dark coffee above the photographer's lips. He sighed, "You look pathetic. Have you ever drunk in public before? Or coffee, at least?"

"Sorry." He apologized, wiping his mouth with the back of his fist. "But you're leaving already?"

"Yes, I still have lots of things to do." His slim fingers pointed at the camera on the blue-eyed's chest. "Delete them."

"Oh, come on!" Grimmjow whined, "I just arrived!"

"You arrived five minutes ago. Be thankful that I am courteous enough not to leave by seeing the mere sight of you." He stood up, "Furthermore, if I must repeat, the agreement was that I come. There was no... _having quality time_ involved."

True, and Grimmjow couldn't think of any comeback at the moment so he turned on his camera and navigated through the thousands of pictures saved. "C'mere, watch me delete the fucking pics, so you can sleep soundly tonight without accusing me of not keeping my damn word."

Ulquiorra did stand beside the photographer, watching him delete those two pictures from yesterday. He sighed, the burden finally off his shoulders. "I'll be leaving now, then."

"Yeah, sure." Grimmjow groaned as he continued to use his camera, "Oh, hey! Wait a minute! You better take a look at this!"

_The hopeless fool_, Ulquiorra thought. Shaking his head, he decided to at least have the man satisfied before eternally disappearing from his life. The stoic one walked back to their table and looked over the photographer's shoulder only to be blinded thrice by a familiar flash of light.

"Cool," he grinned, "Have new pics now."

"You trash." He rubbed his green eyes, and as he was temporary blinded, he felt a hand holding his arm firmly, as if keeping him from stumbling or anything that could hurt him. As his sight was finally recovering, he felt something damp on his cheek. Was it raining?

"See you on Monday." A deep voice whispered in his ear.

By the time Ulquiorra could finally see again, the blue-haired photographer was nowhere to be seen, leaving him to ponder just what touched his cheek that could be a little cold and damp since the sun was shining brightly as he looked up in the clear, blue sky.


	2. Second Shot

**Beautiful Stranger;**_  
A GrimmUlqui Yaoi Fan Fiction._

Still in his favorite spot, Grimmjow Jeagerjaquez stared at his shots that he considered to be unworthy to be seen. He sighed, shaking his head, and threw them to the high table next to him. He laid his arms on the smooth surface and crossed them, turning into a pseudo-cushion for his aching head. The whole room was filled with just one subject, thousands of copies flooding the tables, walls, tubs, and floors. Some would say he had gone crazy and obsessed but this was just how photographers work, this was how they devote themselves to their loved profession, and Grimmjow swore he won't find rest until he gets that _perfect_ shot.

He raised a hand to his face, propping his head from the table. He stared at one of his enlarged shots and smiled bitterly, his exhaustion wearing off a little. It was what their financer had seen and loved, but also the reason why he found himself trying to meet an impossible deadline.

_This is stupid. _He brushed his hair up, sighing.

A knocking sound came from the other side of the door, taking Grimmjow's attention from his most beautiful shot so far. He dragged his arm over the long table as he walked to the door, the pictures falling down to make his trail. He slipped in the door chain just in case it was Ichimaru or Luppi, and then unlocked the door.

"Hey," greeted a bubbly face through the small opening.

Grimmjow smiled back, "Hey, beautiful."

Closing the door for a moment to disconnect the chain, Grimmjow looked back and realized that the room was an embarrassment, but what the heck, he had known Neliel for as long as he could remember. He opened the door and stepped aside, apologizing for the clutter instead.

Her innocent round eyes scanned around, giggling at the sight of the unbelievable mess with her hand coyly covering her pink lips. "You haven't changed."

"Wasn't like this last week." He replied, making sure that the door was closed and locked. He hated everyone else but Neliel and himself getting inside this favorite room of his. Everyone just turns everything over and around. Grimmjow kept on losing a few every time, and later, realization dawned to him that he wasn't losing just _a few_ anymore.

"Of course it wasn't. I tidied it up last week." She walked further inside, lightly exploring the place as her curly green hair bounced from her shoulders."Found yourself a new prey?" she asked, taking one of the newly developed shots from the tub of water. "Is this the one Aizen-san has been so interest of?"

"Yeah," he walked to her, looking at the picture over her shoulder.

She smiled, raising the picture to the man's face and said, "She's so beautiful. I'd love to see her in person!"

"Really?" Grimmjow laughed, ruffling the woman's green tresses brotherly, and took the picture to take a closer look at it. His lips curled into another bitter smile as he looked at it the second time. With the long dark hair that accentuates the porcelain white skin and those deep emerald eyes, _she_ truly was the personification of beauty without a doubt. Grimmjow found it a little painful to think that it had to be _her_ out of all the millions in this world that had to be this perfect. So, why, he always asked, couldn't it be someone else than _her_?

"How did you find her, Grimjy?"

"How?" he paused, laying the picture down to the desk and crossing his arms over his chest. Grimmjow leaned back to the high table and raised his head to look at the red-lit ceiling, picturing that perfect face that he had just successfully etched permanently in his mind. "I just did."

She giggled, turning around to look at the other pictures hanging on the walls, and intertwined her fingers behind her. "It's fate, then?"

"You could say that."

"I think she'll look good with you."

"I actually think so, too." Grimmjow gently held the woman's shoulder and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek, "Gotta go, beautiful. Make sure to lock the door on your way out, okay?"

**xxx**

Ulquiorra stared out of the horizon, his arms crossed over his chest. It had been four days since he started meeting with the blue-haired photographer whom he still didn't want to accept the existence of. He was waiting for him again, and God, how many hours had it been since he arrived? Checking his wristwatch, it told him that was ten minutes before seven. No wonder the sun was already gone.

He sighed, shaking his head as he slid his hands back to his pockets, and decided that he had waited long enough. But as he was about to turn to his path back home, the Math teacher felt the familiar weight on his—err, well—buttocks. He flipped around smoothly to find the blue-haired photographer smiling toothily at him. Ulquiorra frowned, sending his fist to the man's annoying grin.

"Fiesty." He grinned even wider, catching the tiny knuckle easily.

His emerald eye twitched. Ulquiorra pulled back, sliding a foot back a little for leverage, and then thrust his knee to the cocky man's... _cock_y place. He felt smug when he saw the other man bend over in pain, groaning and whimpering.

"You know," the _broken_ man started with a little voice, "I know I'm irresistible, but," he groaned again, twisting and turning to find a more comfortable position for little Grimmy. "...please, be gentle next time."

Ulquiorra rolled his eyes, ignoring the man who was feeding himself with vanity even throughout the pain in his groin. He reached out his hand, twitching his fingers to get at least a little attention, "The pictures. Now."

But Grimmjow continued to squirm and groan, ignoring his order and his whole existence completely. This struck a sensitive vein in his temper, and his hands quickly turned into a fist. He eyed the man that fell silent. He could feel that there was something wrong. He knew it hurt, but shouldn't the pain be gone by now? It had been like... what? Four, five minutes? Something's up, or did he kneed the little creature too hard it went completely inside?

The math teacher bent down, peeking at the face that was turned towards to the ground. Maybe he did hit him too hard.

"Are you—" Ulquiorra was about to ask, but before he completed his question the teal-haired photographer rushed towards him and planted a kiss on the edge of his lips. His pale skin flushed red the next second, green eyes growing as wide as they can be, making Grimmjow bark in laugher as Ulquiorra fumed and threw another fist at him.

"You're cuter up close, you know that?"

"I will kill you." Ulquiorra glared, his nails digging through his palm. "I swear, I will kill you."

"Am I suppose to believe that when you swore you'd sue me but didn't?" Grimmjow raised a brow, smirking. He leaned down to get their faces closer and continued. "I know you like it, so don't deny it, beautiful."

"Don't call me 'beautiful'." He sent another punch, but once again it was only caught by the taller one easily.

"It's a compliment." He shifted a little, lowering his hand that held the other's fist near to his chest. "If you try to hit me one more time, I promise I'll kiss you."

"You wouldn't dare."

Grimmjow chuckled, "You know I would."

Ulquiorra stared at him and grunted, pulling his hand and hiding it back to his pockets. The photographer raised a brow at this. Now the little bastard was being compliant just because of a kiss? Was he truly that unlikable? But, anyway, it was more fun to play when the prey is hard to get. The chase had always been the best thing in it.

"Hey, beautiful,"

"Don't call me that."

"Why not? I told you it's a compliment." Grimmjow shrugged his shoulders, as if stating something so obvious.

"It isn't a compliment for a man to be described as 'beautiful'. And I don't make friends with strangers."

Grimmjow blinked, "It's the third time we've met. Don't you think I deserve a little promotion from being a stranger?"

"Trash."

"I said a promotion, not a demotion."

The teacher turned, ignoring him, and walked away. Grimmjow watched him in surprise but he stayed to where he was. Did he say something bad? He didn't think so. Ulquiorra might not appreciate the nickname he gave him, but he doubt that it was enough to have the man hate him. His thoughts were all jumbled, confused as to why the man was leaving without any goodbye or even without getting the very reason why he was there for. Then, suddenly, Ulquiorra stopped a few meters away from him and looked back.

"Delete my pictures."

"Why are you so far away?"

"So you will not be able to take a shot of me once again. Delete them."

"Fine." Grimmjow grumbled under his breath, but did what the other man asked. He took his camera that hung on his chest and scanned through the stored pictures, deleting every shot that he took the other day. With every deleted message that came up on the tiny screen of his digital camera, he shook his head, not really wanting to let go of those beautiful pictures too soon, but what can he do? He was never one to lie and break promises.

"There." He groaned, "All deleted."

"Now, toss it."

"W-what?" He sputtered, eyes growing wide, "Did you just tell me to—"

"Yes, I did." Ulquiorra reached out his hand from afar, "Toss it."

"No fucking way!"

"I'll catch it, I promise."

A pair of blue eyes continued to stare and observe. Just what was the pale-skinned beauty thinking asking him to throw his camera to such a distance? He narrowed his eyes accusingly as a frown came to distort his handsome features, "You'll drop it."

Ulquiorra sighed. _Typical._ "I will not drop it." He replied formally, "I don't even see any reason to."

"I can give you hundreds," Grimmjow replied, letting his camera to dangle by his chest with a growing smirk on his face, the accusing tone and tense atmosphere suddenly gone, "but you have to kiss me for each one I'll give. So, the first one is—"

"Silence." He almost yelled as his patience was wearing thin. The pale teacher closed his eyes and breathed in, calming himself and patiently searched for reason why he shouldn't lose his cool. Funny thing was that he didn't found any, but still he did his hardest to keep his temper in check. "Just... give it."

"Okay," He lifted the strap around his neck and cradled the camera with both of his hands, his carefulness and love for the object evident with the way his fingers held it. "But if this breaks, you're not allowed to leave until I say so, 'kay?"

"You're not going to do anything stupid," Ulquiorra raised a brow, "are you?"

"Dude, I love you, but I fucking love this baby, too."

"What are you? Trisexual?" **(1)**

"A what? What did you say? Sex-what? You wanna have sex?"

"It's nothing, and no," Ulquiorra almost growled. "Now, give it."

Grimmjow simply shrugged, letting whatever word that was pass. "Here it goes."

The blue-haired photographer threw it up in the air, and Ulquiorra caught it just as well. He turned on the digital camera and began browsing through the shots, seeing all the weirdness in the world had left a small piece of them in the man's camera, and then turned it off. None of his pictures were there, not that he was hoping that Grimmjow would leave any. He was the one who wanted them to be gone with after all.

"Here." He threw it back rather mindlessly, leaving Grimmjow to scramble to catch it. His eyes widened, suddenly realizing just what he did, and tried to make up for it but he knew it was too late. When the device flew out of the boundaries, Ulquiorra could only close his eyes but still, he knew what happened.

"SHIT!"

It fell down the cliff. **(2)**

"That fucking cost me damn digits I couldn't even count!"

Ulquiorra felt sorry... and guilty, really. He sighed and opened his eyes, he was about to tell the man that he would pay for it, but when he saw Grimmjow leering rather than gaping or fuming like what his tone had implied, the compassion inside him blew up like a childish bubble as the jigsaw pieces went together.

"Baby, I think I know what this means." The grin went even wider. "How about you, beautiful?"

"You planned this." Ulquiorra glared.

"I did not."

"You did, besides _I_ didn't break it."

"Don't fucking tell me the fucking cliff did it." Grimmjow scowled, "That's a pathetic excuse even for a snotty brat."

Ulquiorra thought so, too.

**xxx**

Grimmjow pushed the glass door open, making the tiny bell chime and alert the service people of their arrival. Ulquiorra was the first to walk in, letting Grimmjow be the gentleman and hold the door for him. Once they were seated, Ulquiorra looked around and saw jovial things adorning the place. It was the closest fast food chain, and they were here because he wanted things to be done and over with as soon as possible.

"So," He started, but the words died in his throat when he saw his companion almost had his neck turned 180 degrees. "What are you looking at?"

"Tits."

Ulquiorra groaned, not finding this as something to be surprised about as he was reminded of the other poor waitress the other day when they met for the second time. "Won't you get tired already?"

"Maybe if I see yours," Grimmjow turned to him with a sneer, the pale man turning tomato red. "Can I see yours?"

**SMACK!**

After a few minutes, Ulquiorra caught sight of a waitress and called her over. She nodded with a smile and went to them quickly with her rollerblades and clipboard. "Good evening, sirs! What would you want for today?" The woman appeared to be quite bubbly with the way her puffy cheeks glowed and her dark curly hair tied into two ponytails, one on each side of her head.

"Tissues." Grimmjow said with a muffled voice as he cradled his jaw and broken nose, eyes still glaring at the green-eyed man that was doing pretty good in ignoring him.

"I'll have coffee. Black coffee, please." He said politely.

"Okay, anything else?"

"Tissues." Grimmjow said again, making the waitress stare at him with wide, confused eyes.

"He'll have some parfait." Ulquiorra said, breaking the eye contact between Grimmjow and the seemingly only concerned woman. "Don't mind him, please. He's sick, somewhat."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." The woman replied, getting the message that the blue-haired photographer was crazy or one who possesses a brain less capable than any average human. "What flavor would he have, sir?"

"Strawberry." The _mentally challenged_ said, glowering at the man who was sitting comfortably across him.

"Then strawberry it is!" The waitress scribbled the orders down happily, and then turned to Grimmjow, "This won't take to long, okay? So, behave yourself and be a good boy." She smiled, ruffling the radiant blue hair, and nodded her head to Ulquiorra before leaving.

"I'm going to kill you." Grimmjow growled, his blue eyes shimmering in anger, and slowly lowered his hand from his still bleeding nose which Ulquiorra pushed two rolled tissues into. "I swear I'm going to kill you. That chick was fucking hot."

Ulquiorra sighed, turning to look at the window and watch the world outside, "Yes, she is beautiful."

"I was about to hit on her when you broke my nose, thrust two sheets of fucking tissue into them, and then call her over." He spat, but all too suddenly, his deep frown turn upside down into a smirk. "Were you jealous?"

"Why would I be jealous?" He asked, not really wanting any answer since he knew they'd be as pathetic as the source was. Ulquiorra turned his head and caught sight of the same woman walking to them, their orders placed carefully in a tray. "And if, by any chance, you still have some dignity left, you might want to hide that unsightly face of yours for a while... or if you are so desperate to gain her affection, act like the retard she knew that you are."

"I hate you." Grimmjow groaned before lifting his hand back up to cover his literally clogged nose. "But I still think you're more beautiful than her."

Ulquiorra turned to him with round eyes, his cheeks gradually turning from their pale complexion to burning red. "Will you stop sputtering nonsense, trash?" But Grimmjow just seemingly smiled, already contented at the fact that he blushed.

"Here are your orders, sirs! Enjoy!" She said, ruffling Grimmjow's hair again before dashing away.

Ulquiorra ignored the woman this time and glanced down, looking at the two different glasses laid on their table. "She forgot your tissues."

"It's okay," the photographer groaned, pulling the white rolls from his now aching nostrils, and turned his head to the table to where the woman was now. "They've stopped bleeding now, I think."

The pale teacher stared at Grimmjow, "Do you like that woman that much?"

"Hm?" he turned back to their table, one brow raised in question. "What made you say that?"

"You..." Ulquiorra paused, looking down to his cup of coffee, "You look so sad."

"I just wished I had my camera." He sat back, pulling his tall glass of strawberry parfait to his side. "I would want to take a shot of her... but never mind that! How old are you, anyway?" Grimmjow asked, taking a spoonful into his mouth.

Ulquiorra stared at him, feeling that there was more to it than the man was saying, but perhaps it was no longer his business. He shrugged, letting the topic be changed, and started to mix his coffee. "Why do you ask?"

"You seem to like coffee a lot." He pointed out, making Ulquiorra nod as he lifted the intricately designed cup to his lips. "Are you forty?"

The green-eyed suddenly coughed, laying his cup back to its saucer with a shaky hand while the other covered his lips to keep the dark mixture from pouring out and staining the tablecloth.

"Thirty?"

Ulquiorra shook his head and took one table napkin from the side to his lips. "I'm twenty-four."

"No kidding?"

"No."

Grimmjow took in another spoonful of his treat again, "Do you mind dating older people? Like twenty-seven year olds?"

"...and the point of this conversation is?" Ulquiorra took his cup again and started to sip.

"I'm twenty-seven."

Ulquiorra spurted out his coffee, the warm drink spraying all over Grimmjow's face.

**xxx**

The night fell deeper and deeper and yet there were the both of them, still outside wandering rather aimlessly. He wanted to go home now, and he had been asking over and over to let the man let him go but no matter what he said, he couldn't get the photographer to agree. He even tried to flee, but his thin legs could only carry him to a certain speed.

"Can I go home now?" Ulquiorra asked for the nth time, "I still have work to do."

"Okay," Ulquiorra's green eyes lit up upon hearing this, "but I'll have to walk you home."

"No." He said, needing no time to think for the answer. "I'm not a woman. I can handle myself."

"You're my date..."

"We are NOT dating." Ulquiorra emphasized his negation, his eyes gleaming with great disapproval to the idea. "If anything, I feel more like a hostage here than anything else. So, would you please let me go home?"

Grimmjow gave out a frustrated sighed, digging his hands to his pockets until he manage to get a firm grip to the little plastic bag that fitted just right on the pockets of his jeans. He took it out and flashed it at the pale man's face, "Let me take you home, and I'll give you these."

Ulquiorra stared at the sheet of paper slipped inside a plastic and when he had gotten a good look at it, he scowled. "I thought our agreement was clear that you delete these pictures."

"Our agreement was that I delete the pictures in my camera, besides... it's impossible to _delete_ these, isn't it? 'Cause, frankly, I've never heard of hardcopies getting _deleted_ before_._"

"You cheat."

"I'm sexy." Grimmjow sneered, taking the pictures back to his pockets, and leaned down to the other man's height. "I'm sure lots of people would love to get this, ain't I right, beautiful?"

"Trash." Ulquiorra lifted his fist, ready to strike the mocking bastard. "Give them."

"Of course," he smiled, taking the smaller one's fists and opening them to be able to hold them firmly. He smirked at the dangerously glaring man and slipped the pictures into the shirt that Ulquiorra was wearing, planting soft kisses to the white knuckles. "And now, you will let me walk you home... won't you?"

"Only on one condition." He said, taking his hand from the other.

"Whatever the pretty fairy asks."

Ulquiorra glared but said nothing about the new name, "We'll cover your eyes."

"You're one kinky baby, ain't you?" Grimmjow grinned, dimming him a victor for the night despite the restriction with his sight. "But sure. You'll have to hold my hand, though."

"And why is that?"

"I'll get lost, you idiot. I wouldn't want me to get lost... so," he leaned closer, placing his mouth just next to the stoic man's ear and his hand to the man's rear, giving it a firm squeeze, "May I have the pleasure of walking you home tonight, beautiful?"

* * *

**(1) Trisexual** issomeone actively engaging in sexual intercourse with anyone or anything, be it he, she, or it (animate or inanimate). I read it on Astrike's **Club Midnight**, and then searched it up the net. I didn't know there were trisexuals, but Grimmjow here being one is a joke (...or is it?). Anyway, read **Club Midnight**! It's goooood~ I've been reading it ever since it went out.

**(2) Cliff?** If you're wondering why there's a cliff, their meeting place is like the one where Karin saw Toushiro watching the sunset on one filler episode, only that the cliff here is steeper. Picture it? It's the typical view where you can see the whole town and all. XDD

**IMPORTANT! **I'm accepting suggestions. :)


	3. Third Shot

**Beautiful Stranger;**  
_A GrimmUlqui Yaoi Fan Fiction._

Ulquiorra lied flat on his bed, staring up at his slim hand. It was the first time he ever held hands with someone, and it felt really weird. He had been home for an hour now, meaning the bastard named Grimmjow had been gone also for a whole hour, and yet he could still feel those fingers wrapped around his. His hand still felt so warm. Why must he lose his firsts to this stranger? First his kiss, then his first date, and now this...

_Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez._

His face suddenly flushed red. Is he going to think of the bastard now, too? Taking a pillow from his side, he threw it out of his room to relieve some tension. He didn't need to worry about hitting things with them anymore, he had long moved his furniture away from that part. He had already lost enough vases and frames. But if this goes on, just how many more would he lose to this one?

He fished out the bag of pictures from his pockets and took them out, spreading them to his bed. He looked at them one by one and realized that they were the ones taken from the very first time that they met. No wonder the man had the time to develop them, because the deleting happened the day after. He sighed. The moron got him there, but he swore he was never going to let it happen again. Besides, he didn't have anymore reason to meet the guy. Grimmjow didn't have any more pictures of him and he made sure that his address was kept a secret, too. Suddenly, he felt better. Things were going to go back to normal tomorrow, and damn, was he going to be happy.

His phone started to ring. Ulquiorra rolled to his side and reached to his bedside table, realization suddenly hitting of who might be calling at this ungodly hour. He shot up, getting a bad feeling about it, and snatched his flip phone. When he looked at the tiny screen in front, he groaned, but still he answered it.

"**Hey, beautiful."**

**xxx**

"The solution for this is..." Ulquiorra went on, writing sorts of variables and ranges of number in connection with said problem. When he finished writing, he turned around, encircling the final answer. He looked at each of his student's faces and tried to determine if he was understood. Some did, mostly the ones sitting in front, but majority had their brows knotted like ropes. He sighed, turning back to the board one more time, and wrote another set of Math problems... then his phone started to ring.

He turned around, laying the piece of chalk down, and checked his phone. Seeing that it was, again, the infamous Grimmjow, he changed his cell phone profile into silent and left it alone. He twisted back to the board and resumed the class. Time dragged on, and so was the incessant sound of his phone shaking against the wooden table.

"Sensei," one student called, pointing at the still vibrating device. "Your phone is..."

The long bar of chalk broke into two pieces, Ulquiorra's green eyes twitching at the same time. He turned around, putting down the now broken chalk as gently as he could, and picked up his phone. He didn't flip it open, though, and instead, walked to the window and threw it out, breaking the window glass in the process.

He turned back to the board and continued writing, ignoring the gaping faces of his whole class. A few more minutes, then he deemed it was enough torture for him. He erased all his writing on the board and replaced them with at least five problems. "Board work." Ulquiorra stated before turning to face his class to call a representative.

At the very back of the class, one hand was raised up. Seeing this, Ulquiorra mindlessly nodded at the student, calling him over, and turned back to writing more problems on the board. He handed the boy another piece of chalk without looking away from what he was doing, and patiently waited until the student stopped scribbling beside him and returned the chalk, but then...

"You look sexy in that shirt, sensei." A familiar voice breathed on his ear, making Ulquiorra whip his head to the side and meet a pair of blue eyes with a matching maniacal grin. Then just a second after, he felt a hand by his butt, firmly squeezing a plump cheek. "But I bet you're sexier without it."

**xxx**

"Hey!" Grimmjow called out, running after the fuming raven-haired professor as he cupped his swollen cheek. He was barely able to follow the man since his left eye was slightly blurred by his puffy face injury, and the fact that he was in an unfamiliar place was of no help either. He grunted, taking another corner he hoped that was the same turn that the smaller one took. Fortunately enough, there was that fluttering white coat by the end of the hall. "Hey, beautiful!"

"Don't call me that." He replied coldly, walking even faster as he found out that the bane of his existence was closer than he was comfortable with. What Grimmjow did was totally unforgivable. Ulquiorra was sure that his whole class saw what the mentally challenged photographer did and the way his light complexion turned beet red. He felt like he didn't have the face to see any of his students again, and he was sure that sooner or later, he won't be even able to see anyone at all.

"Wait for me, dammit!" He grunted, sprinting towards him. "Where are you off to, anyway?"

"...away from you." Ulquiorra firmly replied before shutting the door behind him and took the flight of stairs down the hall. It was lucky for him that the class that Grimmjow ruined was the last for the day, and somehow he was thankful but still... Now, he didn't know what to do. Surely everyone would think he was gay and for everyone's taking. He flushed red in anger at the thought, and turned to hit the presence just behind him by reflex.

"Take it easy, baby." The blue-haired photographer caught the flying fist with his free hand, "I already said I was sorry."

"Do you seriously think that apologizing would change anything?" He said venomously, his fists clenching tighter and his teeth grinding. His emerald eyes sent off daggers, and if he didn't know any better, perhaps he would even think that they were burning. He really was pissed off, and to think that he was losing his cool over the same person who stole a lot of his firsts was making him even angrier. Ulquiorra threw his other fist, making sure that he gave it more strength and that it would hit Grimmjow's face. To his satisfaction, it did... but only because Grimmjow let it hit him or so it appeared.

Grimmjow's blue eyes turned to meet his rather regretfully.

"I'm really sorry."

He felt something rush inside him as he heard the blue-haired photographer say those words gently and perhaps solemnly, but he just couldn't let it change his mind. His name was at stake, for goodness' sake! He withdrew his fists, glaring at the man one last time, and then jumped to the other set of stairs.

"Don't follow me." He muttered before running off, but Grimmjow wasn't really one to listen.

Ulquiorra was now out of the streets, hands in his coat pockets and was trying to calm himself down. He breathed out, his eyes closed, and continued his walk down the road. He was starting to feel even just a little bit better; at least there was an improvement.

"Hey,"

A hand came to his shoulder, forcing him to turn. At the sight of blue hair, he immediately scowled and lost the progress in calming himself down. "I thought I told you to—" but as soon as it came back, it vanished once more. Ulquiorra was shocked beyond belief and was lost for words.

Why?

"I'm really sorry."

Because there was the annoying Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, in the middle of the street... down to his hands and knees like a traditional housewife greeting her visitors.

"I wasn't thinking."

People began to gather around, and only by this time did Ulquiorra managed to get back to his senses. He blushed furiously, his heart beating violently in his chest, and ran towards the kneeling and begging Grimmjow. "Get up, you idiot!" He said, tapping the man's back nervously as he felt all the world's eyes at him.

"Please, forgive me."

"Okay, okay! I forgive you!" Ulquiorra blushed even more if it was even possible, and then took the other man's hand in his and ran away. He was still nervous and scared. All those people that gathered were giving him weird looks and were even whispering even weirder things! He swore he was never going to go through that street again, especially when he was with the inconsiderate bastard. "I swear, Jaegerjaquez, the next time you—"

Grimmjow pulled back, stopping the smaller one from moving at the same time. "You remembered my name."

"Of course," he yanked his hand away and halfway turned, "You are one person who is definitely hard to forget."

"You're flattering me."

"Oh? Then I pity you... you who can not distinguish an insult from a flattery."

"I'm remembered, that's all that matters."

Ulquiorra slightly turned, gazing at those blue eyes that were seemingly peaceful and devoid of any malicious emotion. "Has it been your prime purpose in annoying me?"

"Kinda." The blue-haired photographer raised his arms and crossed them behind his head, looking up, "Are you going to invite me in, now?"

_Huh?_ Ulquiorra sharply turned, and to his surprise, there was his house based in front of him. He gaped. He must've headed home unconsciously in search for security from all those stranger's eyes and voices. Was he this much frightened? That he wasn't able to control himself from running back here? Oh, God... now the bastard knows where he lives! But no, he was not going to lose this fight. He would get rid of the annoying idiot in one way or another.

"Invite you?" Ulquiorra frowned, "Don't you wish... and I am still angry at you. If you think that making such a pathetic scene like that in the middle of the street to gain my forgiveness would work, then I have all the right to be even angrier at you."

"But—"

"Get lost." He growled and turned to get back into his house, hurriedly locking the door behind him. He sighed, his back pressed against the wooden door.

Hours came and went, the feuding of orange and deep blue for the sky now done and over with, but the irritating scratches, knocks, callings, and wails from outside Ulquiorra's door seemed to be still far from over. Ulquiorra had locked himself inside in his office, two rooms away from his living room, but the sounds still reached him and it was keeping him from doing his work. He hated noise... but he hated Grimmjow more.

"Open uuuuuuuupp..." the bastard moaned, "I said I was sooooooooorrry!"

Was the guy really older than him? Why did this suddenly make Ulquiorra feel like he locked out his _wife_?

_...Or a cat._

He sighed, rubbing his aching head in circles. Just how much noise can one man make? Grimmjow was totally unbelievable, and the fact that he was twenty-seven years old, which means he should be _more_ mature than Ulquiorra, made things even more ridiculous and irritating. If getting older meant this, then Ulquiorra was sure he'd rather die now. He didn't want to be a humiliation.

He sat up, knowing that the noise wouldn't permit him to do his work any further, and headed to his kitchen for a coffee break. He rummaged through his cupboards and took out his favorite cup and brewed coffee. He laid it down on an island and sat on a black rotating stool. As he began his preparation, something caught his attention. At the corner of his eyes, he saw light split the dark sky, signaling an impending storm.

Ulquiorra walked to the window with the well-prepared cup at hand and looked up to the sky where clouds began to dance and feud for space with the rumbling of thunders and streaking of lightning bolts. It was going to be a strong storm, it seemed.

**xxx**

He stirred—the warmth of a new day's light caressing his skin. Ulquiorra groaned awake, blinking his eyes to adjust his emerald eyes to the strain, and sat up. He looked around his room and found it exactly how he left it before he slept, but something kept on tugging at the back of his mind that he had forgotten one thing. Or perhaps this was simply an effect of the coffee he drank? Maybe he had too much.

He shuffled for his comfy slippers and groggily walked to the kitchen for some breakfast. He plopped his face against the kitchen island and closed his eyes, groaning. He was never a morning person, although he always tried to be. For him it was kind of embarrassing for a person as committed as he was to be this lazy every morning, but he couldn't help it. He loved sunsets, nights, coffee, books, bubble baths, and so many things. Mornings just doesn't fit to the unending list.

He did his hardest to straighten himself on his seat, but his eyes just kept on closing. He propped an arm up and supported himself dazedly as he let his eyes rest for a little while longer. Later, he found the motivation to move and have breakfast. Afterwards, he took a long, warm bath which almost lulled him back to sleep, but he knew better than to skip a workday just because he didn't feel like leaving the safety confines of his house.

Ulquiorra continued to prepare, dressing up just as dignified as everyone else thought he was, and filed his students' papers he finished checking yesterday. He checked his keys, and then headed to his door, but once he opened it, he was greeted by a big surprise. And by _big_, it meant really _biiiig_. Big enough to block his door path, and it was irritating him.

"What are you doing here?" he growled threateningly, his day already ruined so early in the morning.

Said man didn't reply... didn't even budge. Was this some kind of another trick? Ulquiorra hoped not. He bent down and peeked at the face of the wordless photographer, and found out that the man was asleep... and was kind of pale and messed up. He tried to wake him up, shaking the large obstruction a bit cautiously.

"Wake up." He said almost gently, "You'll get sick out here."

Grimmjow finally woke up, blinking his puffy half-opened eyes, and looked around. He smiled immediately when he caught sight of Ulquiorra, but it wasn't one of those malevolent smirks. It was something most likely that went with sweet morning greetings.

"I'm really sorry." The photographer weakly said. "Do you still hate me?"

"Yes, I still hate you." Ulquiorra replied emotionlessly, but pressed a hand against the photographer's forehead and found it mismatching Grimmjow's body temperature. "You're sick."

"Yeah, well," he groaned, closing his eyes. "Many say that."

Ulquiorra sighed, shaking his head. "I meant you have a fever. Come inside."

"Thanks." The blue-haired stood up weakly with all the strength that was left, but wobbled after taking two or three steps towards the warmth radiating from Ulquiorra's house. He tripped, falling over the pale man and losing consciousness.

"J-Jaegerjaquez!" he flushed red, perhaps as red as the sick Grimmjow was, and desperately scrambled away from the unconscious man. His heart raced, the pumping of his heart reaching his ears. The contact was unintentional, but what was this strange rush of emotions inside him? It was fear, he supposed.

Ulquiorra sighed, already calmed down, and stood back up to collect Grimmjow in his arms. The man was heavy, but not as heavy as he thought he would be with all those muscles... not that he adored them. The raven-haired laid the other man to the nearby couch, and bent down to check the temperature again.

"Just what were you thinking sleeping outside with the weather that bad?" he asked, but not really anticipating any answer. He remembered his thoughts last night, him comparing Grimmjow to a pet being punished for ruining furniture while he was gone. He smiled, gliding his hand through the smooth expanse of skin from the warm forehead down to the freezing cheek.

Soon, he caught himself.

_What am I doing?_

Ulquiorra marched away, scowling. He must've also caught a fever through the night, but before worrying about himself, he decided it was better to worry about Grimmjow first. He collected a small pail and a towel, pouring warm water and soaking the piece of cloth with it. He walked back to his living room and began wiping the freezing body with the warm towel. Afterwards, he took Grimmjow's shirt off and exchanged it with something he found on his closet which he hoped would fit the man just right.

He sat back, contented with everything he did.

_Stupid idiot._

Ulquiorra shook his head. This kind of attention was just new to him, that's all. Maybe he was happy with it, that much he could accept, but there was nothing more. Grimmjow just wasn't as bad as he appeared to be, or at least he's not as unlikable when he was asleep.

One last time, he checked the unconscious photographer's temperature and replaced the roll of warmth on Grimmjow's forehead. He dipped it one last time to the lukewarm water and returned it. Ulquiorra stood up to get a piece of paper and a pen. He scribbled down and took one of his spare keys out. He folded the letter he wrote with the key and laid it the center table next to the couch were the man was asleep.

**xxx**

_Jaegerjaquez._

_I made you some soup. I hope it's still warm. I am also granting you access to the fridge, but leave a note of the things that you will take. I also left you some medicine to take on the kitchen counter with further instructions. I replaced your shirt last night, I hope you don't mind. I also left some clothes on the bathroom if you wish to take a bath before leaving. Lastly, I leave you this spare key. Leave it on the mailbox when you leave. Please._

_Seriously, return it. But other than the key, you are free to keep whatever it is that you will take... especially the food. Please, don't throw up on my floor. If you are still unwell, do not force yourself to leave. I will understand._

_I repeat: return the key._

Grimmjow smirked, refolding the small piece of paper and slid it inside his pocket. He bent over, resting his elbows on his knees, and looked around. He took every inch of the house in, there was no telling when the next time would be or if there would even be a next time. The house was simple, colored cream and wood brown. Neat pictures and paintings were adorning the plain walls while the floor was mostly occupied by high vases filled with different kind of plants and flowers. He stood up and explored further only to find lots more of what was already to be found in the living room.

He kept walking around the house until he met a closed door. He twisted the knob but found it locked. He raised his head and stared at the door, wondering why it was the only door in the house that was locked. Perhaps it was the storage room? But why didn't it feel like it was the storage? Grimmjow blinked, noticing a paper taped on the door. He peeled it off and unfolded it, and it said:

_Stay out, Jaegerjaquez. I'm warning you._

He snickered, realizing what was truly behind the door, but he knew better than to challenge the man's temper and walked away. Pulling out the letter from his back pocket, he was reminded of his granted access to the fridge and the food that was prepared for him. He sniffed, catching a faint fragrance of something appetizing. He started to hope that it was, indeed, still warm.

Now full and well, Grimmjow decided to take the bath that the owner of the house offered to him. He wandered around searching for the blasted bathroom which seemed to be rather good in hiding itself. He scowled. He realized he was going in circles. The house didn't seem big, but why did it suddenly feel like it was? And why did everything suddenly appear to come to life? Everything was moving, even the walls were moving. Did he fell into a wormhole or something?

Grimmjow clutched his head, screwing his eyes shut. Ah, maybe it was the fever. He remembered once more what was written in the letter and the medicine Ulquiorra left for him to take. He staggered towards the kitchen, or where he remembered it was located at. To his relief, he was going the right way. He walked to the counters and leaned down on it, laying his head against the cold marble for a while before taking the medicine dryly.

A few minutes later, the headache died down. The medicine worked fast, but Grimmjow wished it could work even faster and get rid of his dizziness. Really, what did he do to deserve this? But still, he knew he was lucky that he didn't die outside freezing from the cruel weather... even luckier that he had his beautiful _goddess_ to let him inside the house.

He lifted his head, raising a hand on his neck and felt for his pulse and temperature. His blood pressure seemed normal, but he still felt kind of hot and strangely high. He wobbled back to the living room, throwing himself back on the couch, and drifted back to sleep.

**xxx**

Ulquiorra walked inside his house, closing the door behind him. He gazed around although he saw nothing but the darkness. His day was rather weird, there was no one ruining it for him except for the morning when he realized that Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez had cooped exactly at his doorstep. He extended his hand to his left, feeling for the light switch and turned it on. The lights flicked on, revealing to him a shivering form which embraced itself.

"H-h-hey," the paled photographer greeted through his clashing teeth, "S-s-sorry I c-c-c-c—aahh, s-s-s-shit!"

The skies suddenly lit up, blinding the whole world with that streak of lightening, and then the rumbling followed... cutting out the electricity up to the farthest house Grimmjow's eyes could see through the open window. He badly wanted to take back what he said earlier about him being lucky. He was getting fucked pretty bad by what he thought was just a simple fever with cold, but now he was feeling like he was going to die and there weren't anymore electricity to top that up.

Suddenly, a foreign weight fell down to his lower limbs. He felt something going around his waist and it was warm, really warm and good against his freezing skin. However, it was making him uncomfortable and the fact that it was getting tighter and tighter wasn't helping him relax in anyway.

"H-hey, i-is tha-at y-you?" Grimmjow asked, stretching out his hands to feel out the mysterious _bear._ He slowly lowered his hands, still searching for the source of his waist's torture. Soon, he felt warm skin against his palm. It wasn't _comfortably_ warm, but it was less cold than his own. "A-are you... oka-ay?"

Ulquiorra did not answer.

"Y-you're s-squishing m-me. L-loosen u-up."

Grimmjow started struggling despite the awful pounding in his head. It was really uncomfortable, far too uncomfortable to bear, and it was making his fever worse. He started to feel even colder when he tensed his muscles to move. Later, he gave up, the man holding his waist did not even budge when he gathered all his strength to break free. Getting down with a fever sure was shit.

He sighed, giving up, and leaned back to the couch.

"Jaegerjaquez..." the weight on his thighs suddenly disappeared, but the tight hold on his body was still there. Grimmjow just stared at where he assumed to be the one he was speaking to and kept still until the other decided to resume his speech, but that time did not come. What did, though, were strong tugs at his shirt until they were off. Although he was still feeling sick, Grimmjow began to struggle once again. He was sick, everything was so fucked up, and he was freezing... now Ulquiorra was taking of his shirt! The photographer started to think of the many things that this could mean, but everything kept on falling into one conclusion and that was they were going to... _oh, god!_ Right now?!

"N-now i-isn't a g-good t-time t-to—"

The warm weight suddenly went back to him, the soothing temperature now covering his whole chest and the arms that once held his waist was now around his neck.

"I'm scared."

"H-huh?"

"I'm scared of the dark."

**xxx**

Ulquiorra stirred awake, groaning and blinking his eyes until they adjusted to the day's bright sunshine. He raised his hand to his lips and yawned, still feeling the need to sleep more than the urgency of work. Still, he knew better than to laze around. He sat up... and realized he couldn't sit up. He blinked, realizing that there was a large expanse of chest before his face and a strong arm wrapped around his shoulders. He looked down at himself and realized... he was shirtless too.

He screamed.

"You bastard!"

Grimmjow scrambled his way towards the front door in fears of having smashed like a bug by the furious Ulquiorra. He had received a fair share of blows when the man was in total control of himself, and it hurt like hell! He didn't need to know anymore how strong the man could hit when he was delirious. He still wanted to live!

"Fuck!" The photographer tripped, falling face down to the ground. He tried to recover quickly, but being punched to consciousness wasn't exactly a good wake up call. It made his head spin and his limbs rather weak. He twisted around and looked up at the infuriated pale man and brought his hands up in defense, "I-it's not what you think!"

"What's not, Jaegerjaquez?! What's not true with what I think?!"

"Everything!" He hastily stood up, stretching out his arms to keep the furious Ulquiorra in a safe distance from him. "So, just stop bitching for a moment and hear me out!"

"Who are you calling a _bitch_, Jaegerjaquez?!"

_Oops..._

_

* * *

_**FEN:** I wonder if Grimmjow would be able to live through this? Hmmm... What do you think? XD


	4. Fourth Shot

**Beautiful Stranger;**  
_A GrimmUlqui Yaoi Fan Fiction._

The door flew open, giving way to the body thrown to its direction. Grimmjow landed on the ground with a violent thud, shaking the nearby furniture and emitting a low groan from his throat. Cracking an eye open as he scratched the back of his head, he caught sight of his _doom_ getting closer and closer by the minute.

_Oh, shit!_

Scrambling on the floor with his jelly limbs, he hurriedly stood up and ran on the opposite direction of the man with a golf club. Seriously, _a golf club?_ Grimmjow didn't even know what he did in his life that he must be punished this way, wasn't even sure if he actually did anything. As far as he could remember, Ulquiorra was just trying to warm him with body heat when the electricity was out... and there was nothing wrong with that, is there? Even if there was, it wasn't like he forced the raven-haired to lose his shirt and do that. He didn't even ask him to do anything.

He looked over his shoulder, his running feet soon shuffling as his soul's reaper disappeared from his tail. He looked around, knowing it would take Ulquiorra more than that to make him give up...and Grimmjow wasn't sure if he liked _sneak attacks_. Ulquiorra was small and lithe while he was the opposite. There was a big possibility that the green-eyed professor would use that to his advantage. Knowing how much the man liked mind-games, he was sure it would be better to trust his own mind's judgment at the moment. Grimmjow poised himself to be able to counter quickly and flawlessly.

But nothing came.

_Where is that... uhh... sexy... thing?_

Grimmjow grumbled cusses, losing his pose and concentration. That just sounded so stupid.

Anyhow, the _sexy thing_ was still nowhere to be found, so Grimmjow decided to look around. Although he knew that he would just have to run away for his life if he finds him, the blue-haired photographer continued on retracing his tracks and only stopping when he found himself back to the _crime scene_, A.K.A. the bedroom.

He went inside, intently searching for the beautiful raven-haired and then with a soft thud... the door suddenly closed behind him. He hurriedly twisted around and caught the piece of metal swinging down to his direction. Dumbstruck, Grimmjow was nailed to the spot with his eyes wide open, staring at the seemingly slowing bar of silver; then, the next thing he knew was a flash of colors and all other things.

Ulquiorra's limp body fell on the floor as the club on his hand flew meters away. Blue eyes stared at the body, eyes as wide as saucers while the back of his fist throbbed from recoil. The smooth and pale skin of the man on the floor reddened and swelled as if it was crying out to the guilty just how hard had he hit.

_Shit! Shit! Shit!_

He scrambled to collect the unconscious Ulquiorra onto his arms, swearing deep in side to every god in existence that he didn't mean to do it. Oh, and he better ask for luck while he was at it, too. Grimmjow was sure he was going to get one hell of a _thank you_ from the Math professor later.

**xxx**

Grimmjow fiddled with his phone, typing in a few words and then deleting them again. It had been a week since his near death experience, and there were the obvious traces of the traumatic incident all over his face. The first time his friends and co-workers laid eyes on him, they thought he got hit by a car or was mercilessly mobbed when in truth he was only hit by scrawny arms. Needless to say, the emerald-eyed's _thank you_ gift was well received. However, he was more than enough willing to get himself ran over by a truck driven by said generous gift giver if it would be the only way to meet him once more.

_Seriously..._

Rolling his blue eyes up to stare at the blowup picture of the beautiful stranger hanging in the middle of the room as if the main attraction, he crossed his arms in front of him and laid his head on it as if it was a cushion. He sighed. His struggling wasn't getting him anywhere and he was getting tired of it.

He sighed again for the umpteenth time that day. He had been doing everything he could to reach the green-eyed beauty, but not a single thing was working. He maybe not an expert on this field like Nnoitra since he had never met people who _needed _this much attention, but he knew he was not this stupid to fall into an option that was not to his advantage. He was going to shame Neliel and Nnoitra's reputation if this went on. The couple had been bickering on his wing more than enough times already. Not that they were together... well, not officially _yet_ anyway.

Speaking of the love item... Here come their voices loud enough to wake the dead. Grimmjow sighed in slight annoyance and stood up from his seat, walking to the locked door to make it accessible before either of the two goes _berserk_ on it. Their funds always get wasted on replacing doors and repairing windows. The couple was more troublesome than they were worth. Sometimes Grimmjow thought about ridding them, but they were family. At least the closest one any of them could get.

"You are _so_ unbelievable!" The green-haired maiden screeched, stomping past Grimmjow who was holding the door open for them. His vibrant blue eyes had it hard in resisting to roll itself at the woman's rather normal antics, but he knew better than to show her any sign of dismay. He loved his life enough to be reminded that she and her real life Amazon friend will drain all his body fluids from his nose if she ever gets pissed off at him. How Neliel even met one though, he was certain it was wise to choose not know.

"Shut up, woman!" the eye-patched male followed, snarling. "You ain't exactly—"

"You shut up, asshole!" Neliel whipped around, shoving a finger at the man's chest uncovered by a white polo shirt. "No one wants to talk to a bastard like you! Now, get out of my sight before drag your sorry ass out of here myself!"

Oh, yeah... Nnoitra Jiruga and Neliel Tu Odershvank _is_ an item. And talk about unusual romance...

"You bitch! You think you're much of a turn on, huh? You're nothing but shit to me!"

"Who are you calling a _bitch_, Jiruga?!"

Grimmjow blinked as he chose to stay by the door as the couple went on with their _loving_. That line was awfully familiar.

"Hey, Nnoitra," he blandly called out, not really caring if he was heard or not but at least his friend wouldn't say he didn't care for him. "You better take that back before—"

Oops! Too late. Neliel was already pummeling the hell out of her boyfriend—well, _soon to be_ boyfriend. Anyhow, that was so sweet of her. After all, the green-haired lady was known for outward expression of emotions... and love certainly was a very strong one. Grimmjow had to hand it to his friend, Nnoitra was one lucky bastard. Not everyone gets to die _with_ the hands of their love ones... or was that _in_ the arms? Oh well, it was applicable either way. Doesn't really matter.

...But now that he thought about it, Neliel and his _princess_ was kind of alike. Personality-wise, their stubbornness was probably on the same level, and their strength... God, their strength! Where the hell did they keep on pulling all those hits from? Sure Neliel wasn't as thin as Ulquiorra, but Neliel is a woman! A woman! How could _they_ possibly kick anyone's ass and serve it back in a platter so easily? Especially when those asses belonged to him and Nnoitra?

Nnoitra? Nnoitra... Hmm... Nnoitra.

"Nnoitra!" Neliel gasped and went down to his now drooling and unconscious boyfriend, fisting the man's shirt. "Are you okay?! Talk to me, Nnoitra! Nnoitra! Don't leave me!!!"

Grimmjow swore the woman had a few screws loose, multiple personalities even.

"Chill, Nel." He walked to her, patting her head. "I'm sure he was just _overwhelmed_ with your love."

"Nnoitra!!!" she wailed, clutching said overwhelmed man tightly to her chest. Grimmjow inwardly cringed at the sight. No one, and that means not a single living organism, could possibly survive through her attacks without a broken bone or two. Neliel was just too _expressive_ to be controlled. "DON'T DIEEEE!!!"

"He's not going to die!" he yelled irritably, "Just let go of him and he'll live!"

"NNOITRAAAA!!!"

One blue eye twitched.

This was hopeless.

"OUT, DAMN IT!"

To hell with his fluids!

Grimmjow snatched the woman's wrist, shoved her out of his room and locked her out for the first time in her life, leaving Nnoitra to drool alone all over his floor. He knew he was going to pay dearly afterwards, but _fuck_ if he wasn't going to do anything to spare his eardrums! He'd rather die in one swoop than lose his organs one by one and die slowly! However, this didn't mean Nnoitra was _not_ going to through the same fate.

"Wake up, spoon-head." He muttered, raising his foot to dive the ball of his foot against Nnoitra's chest. "I just bought my ass a ticket to hell from your girlfriend for your sake, and I don't want some drool as a thanking gift."

"What do you want then?" The eye-patched male rolled over before Grimmjow's foot reached him, "A kiss?"

"What's the difference of drool from a kiss?"

"Oh, sorry, Mr. Virgin," Nnoitra went into a crouching position and looked up at the blue-haired photographer, "and thanks."

"Sure you are."

"...So, Jumpin'jack," he drawled, standing up and turning his head to keep watch of Grimmjow who was walking around in circles. "What do I owe you?"

"It's _Jaegerjaquez_, you moron."

"Whatever. Just tell me what you want me to do so I can get my ass out of here already! So what do you want? A lap dance?"

Grimmjow's beautiful eye twitched as the scene played into his mind, "Just shut up, okay?" He growled and shoved the tall man to the side as he walked past him. Sweeping the mounted photos on the high counter with one swift movement of his arm, he watched the box by his feet be filled piece by piece. Nnoitra raised a questioning brow at this but only shrugged and began picking up the stray shots on the floor to hand it to the other. Although out of curiosity, he paused for a while to see just what was so special with them...

"Pretty chick." He commented, flipping the photograph of a raven-haired staring out into the horizon while the soft colors of the sun setting reflected on _her_ skin. Nnoitra turned to check another and saw the same person only in a different angle and pose. The woman seemed unaware, that much he was able to deduct.

"That's a guy."

"Are you sure?" he turned his head to see Grimmjow's back at him, seemingly too busy tidying his share to even bother facing him. "Doesn't really look like one to me."

"Yeah, I'm sure."

The eye-patched male turned back to the picture trapped between his fingers, "A guy, huh?"

"Geez! Get the fuck over it and stop being a lazy ass!" Grimmjow growled, suddenly hasting with his job. "If you feel the need to be reassured, a guy is a person with flat tits, a tight ass, and a dick... which I have no intention of showing you an example of!"

Nnoitra hummed, "Must be a pretty tight ass to have the kitty cat interested."

"I'm not like you."

"Oh, yeah. You go for the inner and outer beauty and all that crap."

"Don't say it like it's a load of bull."

"Is it not?" He flung the photo away, "Aren't you the one who hasn't dated the same person for a month?" Nnoitra rolled his eyes to the side and saw his friend freeze from his ministrations, evident that he had hit a sore spot. He huffed, picking the photo back up. "Either way, I don't care."

"...Really shouldn't anyway." He straightened his back with the box filled with photographs trapped in his arms. "You done gapping at _my_ girl?"

Nnoitra raised a brow, offering the last piece of picture to the other, "I thought you said she's a he?"

"What do you want me to say? 'Stop gaping at my boy'?" Grimmjow growled low, snatching the photograph from the lanky man's hand. "It sounds as if I'm corrupted."

"Well... aren't you?"

"How about _you_?" Grimmjow raised a brow at him before walking towards the door. Securing his _treasure_ in his arms, he kicked the door open and walked out with a puzzled Nnoitra following reluctantly. He slammed the door behind him right away and only realized what he did when he heard strings of curses on the other side of the door. With a smirk that he could get as close as possible in looking sorry, he reopened it and let the grumbling Nnoitra to walk out.

But then, out of the blue...

"Grimjy, where are you going?" came the threatening voice of _doom_. Grimmjow cringed as he flipped around and met the burning eyes of Neliel who had her hands on each side of her hips. Raising an eyebrow, she shifted her weight to one foot and then narrowed her eyes at her blue-haired childhood friend.

Grimmjow could only blink twice... or thrice before he turned swiftly, shoved Nnoitra forward, ran back inside, and then closed the door behind him with a violent thud. He pressed his back against the door as he realized just how heavy his breathing was and how quick and crazy were his heart beats. The way Neliel had looked at him was already enough to give anyone a heart attack... he couldn't even imagine what would happen if her hands had reached any part of him.

"Now what?" Nnoitra raised a brow at him, sharing his great fear from the green-haired female.

He swallowed the lump on his throat and said, "The windows."

"Huh?"

"We're going through the windows."

**xxx**

Ulquiorra awoke from his slumber. Needless to say, he was not happy that it was Monday again. He swore that if every day was a gift, he'd like to know whom he would return _Mondays_ to. The day was just such a curse and his stressful days at work weren't helping things get any better. Still he knew it could be worse... like the blue-haired maniac breaking the record of not showing up for weeks. It could've been a month already if only he took notice of the days that passed so heavily.

He stood up and began preparing for work. It was smart to get ready as soon as he could so he wouldn't have the time to hear his bed's _tempting_ whispers. Done in a whim, he walked to his front door while donning his white tailcoat as the weather had been getting colder and colder each day with the winter holidays just around the corner. Ulquiorra pulled out his keys and unlocked it. Opening the door, he gawked. Something was blocking his doorway... and as if that alone wasn't weird enough, the large brown box could've yelled it if only it had a voice as the letters appeared to almost have been _engraved_ into it. _**DROP AS MUCH AS YOU LIKE**_ was what was written all over it repeatedly in bold. Now that wasn't a usual thing to write on a delivery box... and somehow a suspicion as to whom this was from arose within him. He could only fight off the twitching that the muscles around his eyes were suggesting.

Nonetheless, a delivery was a delivery. He tried to pull it inside but found out that it was too much for a man alone to handle, so he had no choice but to open the enormous package right at the spot on his front door. But how was he going to open it? It wasn't the box's fault to have its underside blocking the doorway and not the other way around. And what was with the size and orientation? Surely the deliverymen wouldn't put it this way if it wasn't necessary. What in the world could possibly be inside a box taller tan Ulquiorra was? Somehow, an idea kept on tugging at the back of his mind.

Knowing it was impossible to pass through like this, Ulquiorra rummaged through his drawers for something he could open the box with. Few minutes later, little Mr. Green-eyed professor found a pocket knife. He walked back to his congested doorway and gave the blockage a wide-swing stab.

"Mpfh!"

Ulquiorra blinked. Did something just... cried? He slowly turned to the knife in his hand and began to reconsider if opening the package in such a way was a good idea. But surely no one is crazy enough to... _naah._ Throwing his doubts out the window, he gave the package another stab... and it rewarded him the same.

"Mpfh! Fhptmnm!"

Okay, now he was sure the package was possessed. This time, he threw the knife away and slid each of his hands through the vertical apertures. Tightening his grip, he pulled the tough carton apart until out came the squealing packed items themselves. Ulquiorra stumbled back, genuinely surprised of the things that fell out. Honestly, he wasn't sure if he reacted right.

"Ara?" the white _item_ rolled to its back, revealing strange slits where one's eyes should be. The man had fine-complexion almost as light as his own with a ball of hair sparkling like silver. Beside him was another who had dark hair and was dressed in a white loose shirt with sleeves that went long past the fingertips. Ulquiorra was sure this was the first time he had seen these two people.

"Can I help you?" the owner of the house knelt down to look closer at the men who were lying flat on his floor.

"Kyaa~" the silver-haired bolted upright and pulled the green-eyed man into a suffocating embrace, "Ya' saved _meeeh_!"

_Oof!_ Ulquiorra began to struggle but couldn't quite par with the man's grip, so he turned to the silver-haired's companion to seek help. "Excuse me, miss, but—"

"I'm Luppi." The dark-haired giggled, covering his mouth with his large sleeves, upon seeing Ulquiorra's obvious realization of his gender. With his small form, long and thick eyelashes, and girly face, he knew getting pissed over this usual thing was going to be pointless. "And this is," he reached out to pat his companion's shoulder.

The silver-haired suddenly loosened his grip but did not completely release him, "Gin Ichimaru!" he chirped.

"And we are here," the two chorused, "to deliver you a message."

"A message?"

"From GrimmKitty!" Gin smiled.

Green eyes blinked in disbelief, Ulquiorra's jaw slacking open. This was just too... unbelievable! After so long of living a peaceful life without headache and embarrassment, he'd have to find out that _Hell_ just multiplied into three? Yet somehow, in the back of his mind, the Math professor wanted someone to show up and say:

_I told you so._

_

* * *

_**FEN:** Oh, gawrsh! I beg for your forgiveness!!! I've been away for so long! PLEASE, DUN HATE MEEEH!!! DX


End file.
